


Sweet Smell Of Success

by Rozarka



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Banter, Diagon Alley, F/M, Flirting, Hufflepuff, Post-Hogwarts, Pre-Romance, Slytherin, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 03:06:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4771151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rozarka/pseuds/Rozarka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The new shop opening next door to Zach's broomstick business isn't exactly the sort of trade he was hoping for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Smell Of Success

**Author's Note:**

  * For [katmarajade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/katmarajade/gifts).



It had been apparent for a week that the empty shopfront beside "Z. Smith, Bespoke Broomsticks" wasn't going to stay empty much longer, and Zach was glad for it. The workers had arrived last Monday, and the whole week there'd been the hammer-and-saw racket of building spells and the fumes of paints drifting in, and the following Monday morning, Zach arrived to open his shop and saw a shiny fresh-painted shop sign affixed over the business next door. 

"Millie's Scents," he muttered, reading out loud, shaking his head with a lurch of bitter disappointment. The shop front was painted pale green, the sign was a deep rose pink with swirly gold lettering, and the window display was full of girly stuff — soaps, candles, perfume bottles... he swore under his breath. He'd hoped for some sort of business that would complement his own, help bring in the kind of sporty and affluent clientele interested in Quidditch and flying, and with enough gold in their Gringotts' vaults to splurge on a stick tailored to their preferences. He'd only worked by himself for a year or so, and was still trying to establish his own name in the trade. When the old broom-maker he'd apprenticed with had retired, Zach had started for himself in the small shop situated in an open courtyard off Diagon Alley. The place didn't get a lot of accidental traffic, and a little help to draw in customers wouldn't have hurt. 

And _this_ would only bring in gaggles of giggling teenage girls, he figured. Goddamnit. Zach scowled at the sign. He detested pink, and it clashed horribly with his own sober and classy sign. He saw someone moving about in there, a hand reaching out to adjust something in the window display, and on an irate impulse, he strode up to the door and ventured inside, ready to demand that they re-paint that bloody sign in a different colour at the very least, if not actually changing their business to sell tailored sportswear or luxury Quidditch supplies instead.

Inside the shop, the air smelled sweet of soap and candlewax and perfume. The woman fussing with the display straightened herself and gave him an excited smile. "My first customer! Welcome." She was taller than he'd thought, standing up, about his own height, in robes of violet velvet that draped enticingly around voluptuous curves and set off glossy black hair and pale skin. "How can I help you?"

"Um," Zach said, as he realized there was something very familiar about this young woman. "Er... _Bulstrode_?" He stared stupidly. He hadn't seen her in several years, not since Hogwarts, and although she was really more or less the same, she still looked so different than the hunched, scowly, boxy girl in shapeless black school robes. She was standing up confident in her full height and she'd styled her thick black hair in curling ringlets, and she'd tamed the monobrow into pretty arches and was wearing a sort of berry red lipstick that made her full lips look juicy and lush.

A tendril of scent swirled around him, seeming to emanate from... her. Bewitching, seductive. Unaware of what he was doing, Zach leaned in a little closer.

He could tell the moment she recognized _him_ , a defensive scowl replacing the smile and at once making her more of the girl he remembered. Zach blushed slightly as he caught himself trying to smell her, and took an immediate step back which he regretted at once when she smirked in a very Slytherin way. Crap. Bad psychology, there. 

"Smith," she said curtly. "I understand that we're neighbours. What do you want?"

"Ah. Yes. Your sign, it clashes with mine," he said, trying to rewind back to the irritation he'd felt standing outside her shop. It was as though that sexy scent on top of the surprise of seeing Bulstrode as a _woman_ had cast a spell on him, and he tried to hold his breath because truly it was unfair that women had such weapons in their arsenal. He pointed with his thumb toward the shop entrance. "Your shop sign. It's fucking _pink_."

"It's quinacridone violet," she said with a frown. "But you may be right that it clashes with yours. You might consider repainting to deep navy, or grey."

" _Me,_ repaint?" Now the indignation was back full force, because bloody hell. "I was here first!"

"It's easier for you to find a different neutral than for me to find something colourful that will go with your sickly mustard sign," she said coolly.

"My sign is black and burnt umber letters on a background of raw sienna," Zach informed her with a haughty tilt of his chin, glad that he remembered so he could counter her quina-something violet. She shrugged and moved past him towards the counter. That sweet tendril of scent expanded, and Zach found himself enveloped in a cloud of scent so enticing, so velvety deep and delicious, that he inhaled and followed before he knew what he was doing. He knew squat about flowers or whatever other strange substances went into perfume, so he couldn't have said exactly _what_ she smelled; all his associations were in terms of texture and warmth and the effect it had upon him, which he couldn't be arsed to examine too closely. It was a very simple and primitive male thought process along the lines of 'that smells sexy' and 'a woman smelling sexy is a very good thing', somehow concluding in 'sex'.

Bulstrode turned on her heel and dark brown eyes under thick, elegant brows stared straight into his. "What," she said flatly, taking in his expression.

"What's that... your..." Zach cleared his voice, wondering if he was about to say something inappropriate. He rarely let such worries stop him, though. "Your smell. What's that you're smelling of?"

She tilted her chin up, regarding him down a short button nose dusted with freckles. He'd never before noticed that Bulstrode's nose was kind of cute. "If it bothers you, you're free to leave. I can't recall issuing an invitation in the first place."

"Come on. By opening a shop, you're by definition issuing an invitation to step inside." Zach smirked. That prickliness was starting to grow on him; it was something he could recognize, at any rate. He'd never liked tip-toeing around people, and he could take it as well as dish it out. "Didn't say it bothered me. Just curious."

"It's a perfume," she said, and at once her face suffused with a flush, her dark eyes sparked with something that might be pride. "It's mine."

Frowning, Zach tilted his head. "Right. I, er... wasn't going to nick it from you or anything."

She rolled her eyes. "No, idiot." Her smile was girlish, quick, bright and toothy and he'd never before noticed that Bulstrode's mouth was so wide and full and red, either. "I meant that I've made it myself. I'm a perfumer. A 'nose', if you will. I haven't created all of this—" she swept out with her hand to indicate the well-stacked shelves of the shop, "but quite a bit of it. Roughly twenty-five percent is my own line. I hope that in a few years it will be all of it."

"Well, it smells great," Zach admitted. He wasn't the sort to throw out idle compliments, but this one was earned fair and square. "What you're wearing, I mean. You're good at this."

"Always enjoyed potions, loved flowers and scents, and ended up doing this." Millicent brought up her wrist to her nose, long lashes fluttering as she inhaled the scent with a pleased, sensuous expression that made Zach's trousers feel just a bit tighter in the front. "This one, I made just for me. I've got many others for sale, though." She swept behind the counter, something hopeful in her eyes now. "If you need something for your girlfriend, sister, mother?"

"My mother's dead. Haven't got a sister... nor a girlfriend, at the moment." He raised an eyebrow. "You could have just asked, Bulstrode." Hell, was he trying to flirt with Millicent Bulstrode now? Zach had to admit to himself that in all likelihood, that was exactly what he was doing. 

Again, she rolled her eyes at him, but he was pretty sure she'd suppressed a smile for a moment. "Well, I've got unisex and male scents too, colognes and after-shaves. If you want to try something for yourself."

"Got to get going and open my own shop, I reckon. Tell you what, I'll be back at the end of the day. Why don't you pick out something you think suits me, from the ones you made yourself? If I like it, I'll buy the biggest bottle you've got."

"The biggest, you're sure? These are high-end fragrances. They're not cheap," Millicent warned. 

"I hope you're not suggesting that _I_ am." Well, this sounded good, Zach realized. Excellent. Well-to-do witches — or wizards — into exclusive perfume might be able to afford bespoke broomsticks, too, for themselves or their significant others. And vice versa. "Anyway, just wanted to drop by and say hello. Get off on the right foot with the neighbourly relations, et cetera." He grinned as she answered that cheeky statement with a laugh and a middle finger, and then he walked out her door and the few steps over to his own.

He took his pavement sign and carried it across the empty courtyard into Diagon Alley, as he did every morning, pausing to glance back at the two shops side by side. He narrowed his eyes at his shop sign. Maybe it was a bit... staid. Not 'sickly'. No way. But deep navy and silver might be better. Not immediately, of course. Had to wait a few weeks or months so she couldn't gloat too much; Slytherins were horrible, that way. But he realized he looked forward to dropping into her shop at the end of the day. Perhaps talk over some strategies to bring more business into their corner from Diagon Alley. Maybe get a chance to smell that sexy scent a bit closer-up. Whistling, Zach sauntered back to his shop to start the day.

 

-end-


End file.
